Songs of Hope
by Cirdan
Summary: Elrond is depressed after Frodo departs from Rivendell. Glorfindel and Ecthelion cheer him up.


Standard disclaimer: All the characters, locations, some quotes, and the initial conception of this world belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, whether it be from Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, or The History of Middle-earth Volumes I-XII.

**Songs of Hope**

Elrond looked out the eastern window and studied the stars. It was said that the past, present, and future were recorded therein, but in this matter, the future was withheld even from the Wise. And yet, even if the Ringbearer succeeded in his quest, victory held only sorrow and parting for Elrond. He sighed heavily. Arwen could not truly know what awaited her. 

Two knocks interrupted his thoughts. Glorfindel entered without awaiting permission. "My Lord, I brought you your harp." 

"I did not send for my harp," Elrond said. 

"Indeed you did not, but I brought it nevertheless," Glorfindel said cheerily. He crossed the room and handed the silver harp to Elrond. "I thought we'd harp and sing together." Glorfindel played several chords on his own golden harp. 

Elrond smiled wanly. "I'm sorry, Glorfindel. I'm not in the mood." 

"All the more reason to lighten your mood with music!" Glorfindel played the opening notes of Elrond's favorite lullaby, the Rock of the Music of Water. 

Elrond shook his head. "The Stone Song also ends in sorrow." 

Glorfindel shrugged. "Before the end, there was yet light and joy." 

"I'm sorry, my friend. I just can't," Elrond said firmly. 

"Can't? Or won't?" 

"The Time of the Elves in Middle-earth is coming to an end, and there is no comfort for such sorrow." 

Glorfindel studied the Lord of Imladris, and for a moment, Elrond thought he would leave. Instead, Glorfindel sat by the fireplace and started a new tune, one unfamiliar to Elrond. "Let me tell you a new tale, a tale of Rivendell." He obviously wasn't leaving. 

Elrond sighed and came to sit by the fire. "Very well," he said. "Tell me your tale." 

"From the moment I settled in Rivendell with you in the beginning of the Third Age, I thought the place familiar. I could never figure it out until one time when I danced through the woods with Ecthelion and found a mulberry tree. It was the only one in the area, so I stopped to examine it. Then I realized that I knew this tree and that I had slept under this very same mulberry tree with Ehtele, Ecthelion's father, during the Great Journey. 

'I remember you!' I exclaimed. 

'I remember you as well,' said the mulberry tree. 

'But how is this possible? I do not remember sleeping near such a lovely valley.' 

'Long ago, there was no valley,' said the tree. 'This was a hill, and my brethren were all around, for this had been a forest of mulberry trees. But in time, the river eroded the land about it. New trees came, and my brethren passed away. I am the last mulberry tree here. I have waited long to see the silver and gold light once more.' You see, we had slept under that tree back in the days before the rising of the moon and the sun, and the tree had thought Ehtele and I to be spirits of the Trees of Silver and Gold that then bloomed in the Blessed Realm. 'And now I have seen the light of the days of old and am content to fade away.' The tree mistook Ecthelion for his father. Anyway, the winter after, the mulberry tree died." 

"This story is supposed to cheer me up?" Elrond asked. 

"Well, yes. Without the river, there would be no valley. The mulberry trees have passed away, but there are other trees that now grow in their place. Cheer up, Elrond. The Time of the Elves is over, and the Dominion of Men is upon us, but the world will still be beautiful, even if we are not here to see it." Glorfindel stood and went to the eastern window, where Elrond had been looking at the stars. "When I departed these lands for the Blessed Realm, I never expected to see the land of my birth again. The Two Trees shone and there was bliss for the Elves, but sometimes, despite the glory of my new home, I missed Middle-earth. And though I have returned, nothing is the same. The mountains are less sharp than before; the rivers run strong and reshape the world; and there is light here that was not before." His voice was grave, and Elrond perceived in him the beauty that came of wisdom and sorrow. Glorfindel drew the curtains closed. "To Cuivienen there is no returning." 

"I'm sorry, Glorfindel," Elrond said. 

"No need to say such a thing." Glorfindel turned and was again his cheerful self. "Or if you truly are sorry, then sing with me and lift my spirits." 

At that moment, as if cued by Glorfindel, Ecthelion burst through the doors. "I cannot believe this! You sent the Ringbearer off without me?" He paused and looked to Glorfindel. "And without the mighty Elf-warrior Glorfindel?" he added with even greater surprise than before. 

"I'm afraid so, Ithil. Your errand in the Grey Havens kept you too long. Master Elrond chose to send Merry and Pippin rather than Fluting and Harping," Glorfindel said. 

"First I miss the Feast of the Victory at Bruin and the Council of Elrond, and now I've missed the Fellowship," Ecthelion huffed indignantly. "I begin to think that you conspire against me, Half-elf. Why do you always send me on the tasks that coincidentally keep me away at all the wrong times?" 

"Other tasks await us, Ecthelion of the fair voice." Glorfindel played scales upon his golden harp. 

"There are always 'other tasks.' That's how I miss all the Age-changing moments," Ecthelion grumbled. 

"This task is more suited to you." Glorfindel nodded at Elrond. "The Lord of Rivendell is feeling glum, and he needs our music to bring hope to his heart." 

"Anor, I would normally love to make sweet music for Lord Elrond, but you don't understand the fullness of the situation. I have heard rumors that Durin's Bane has awakened." 

Glorfindel leapt up straight away. "A Balrog!" His eyes shone like stars, and he reached for his sword before realizing that he had not brought it. 

"If we set out tonight, I'm sure we can join up with the Fellowship of the Ring," Ecthelion said. 

"Let us be off!" Glorfindel put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly for Asfaloth. 

Elrond rose and put his hands on Glorfindel's and Ecthelion's shoulders. "Stay a while longer, I beg!" 

The two Balrog-slayers looked to each other. "Surely you fear for the safety of the Fellowship," Glorfindel said. 

"I do, but the quest is left now to them," Elrond said. 

"Surely a mere two will not be noticed by the servants of the Dark Lord," Ecthelion said, and his eyes pleaded with Elrond to let them go. 

"I need you here in Rivendell," Elrond said firmly. 

"Rivendell is safe for the time being, and if the Ring is not destroyed, then will that safety be compromised. It seems to me that the greater task is in the protection of the Ringbearer," Glorfindel said. 

"Indeed, it is even as Anor said," Ecthelion said. "What need do you have for us here?" 

"I have great need for both of you." Elrond sat and ran his long fingers over his silver harp. "I need for you to kindle joy in my heart." 

Glorfindel and Ecthelion exchanged looks and then shrugged. "That is indeed an important task," Glorfindel said as he nodded. 

"It is. I suppose we'll have to forgo the Balrog slaying," Ecthelion said. He sat and drew out his ever-ready silver flute. "What, then, would you like for us to play, Lord of Rivendell?" 

Elrond smiled (and mentally breathed a sigh of relief that he'd stopped the two Elf-warriors from charging out). "Let us sing the tale of the Star of Hope, for Frodo will have great need of it ere the end." 


End file.
